


The Devil never lies

by Sweetlit



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Demons, Enochian, Gen, Magic, Other, Season/Series 05, Spells & Enchantments, Supernatural Elements, heneverliesexceptwhenhedoes, sadistic!Lucifer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-20 10:51:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16135724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweetlit/pseuds/Sweetlit
Summary: Sam had panted, finishing to draw the symbolic circle with the chalk on the wooden floor.He felt destroyed and terrified at the same time: his hands were shaking, causing him to make mistakes and start again for the hundredth time from the beginning.He knew that he had to stay calm, to keep control, otherwise everything would be lost, but he also knew that this would never be possible.Not with Lucifer on his trail.





	The Devil never lies

**Author's Note:**

> The circle in which Sam locks himself up is similar to the circle imprinted on his ribs by Castiel, hiding him materially and from the sight of angels and demons.
> 
> this is a translation of my Italian work "Il diavolo non mente mai", please forgive my bad English since it's not my first language!

Sam had panted, finishing to draw the symbolic circle with the chalk on the wooden floor.  
He felt destroyed and terrified at the same time: his hands were shaking, causing him to make mistakes and start again for the hundredth time from the beginning.  
He knew that he had to stay calm, to keep control, otherwise everything would be lost, but he also knew that this would never be possible.  
Not with Lucifer on his trail.  
Passing the back of his hand on his forehead, he had feverishly studied the signs on the ground: he had made it, finally he could get safe.  
A sudden crunch behind him had made him turn around. Did anyone come in?  
Alarmed, he had sat on his heels in feverish wait: if it had been an angel or, worse, HIM, he would have appeared without preambles, so maybe it could have been a. . . ?  
A shadow had passed in front of the door, making him jump up and move as quietly as possible towards the circle just traced.  
He had just entered it, when a demon of a superior level had stepped without apparent problem on the strip of salt on the threshold of the door, sniffing the air like an animal.  
"Sammy, Sammyyy. . . You're in here? " the thing had called him, uncovering a disturbing line of rotting teeth in a sort of sadistic grin.  
Sam had shut his mouth, holding his breath, praying that whatever that thing was, it would leave as soon as possible.  
The demon had wondered around him, completely unaware of his presence, and after a last, long look in his direction, he 'd continued his search in the other rooms, before leaving him permanently.  
Sam had exhaled a long, eternal sigh of relief, relaxing his body muscles and letting himself fall heavily on the dusty floor.  
He knew he had no choice, but he also knew he had trapped himself with his own hands.  
With a vague groan, he'd hesitantly crossed himself, and he had done what he hadn't performed in over two years.  
He had prayed.  
\------------------  
The first night had passed relatively quietly, but the next day had been a real nightmare.  
Other demons had come after the first one, some so weak that they couldn't even walk through the door, others so powerful that they could almost see beyond the Enochian seals inscribed on the floor.  
Sam had reserved for them the treatment of silence, looking at them in awe as they crawled through the room, monstrous, aberrant.  
"Soon you could be like them, too," he remembered, vaguely shaking his head.  
When the second night had finally fallen, he had curled up inside his protection circle, wishing with all his heart to have at least one pillow, the thirst that began to scratch his throat ferociously.  
He had sadly watched the balls of dust bend and roll away under his breath, whipping himself once again for not having devised a better plan.  
Not that he'd had time.  
When the Enochian seal that Castiel had impressed on his ribs had broken after a ruinous encounter with Death, the quarryman of the Apocalypse, the angel in the raincoat had looked at him with panic painted on his face.  
"The seal. . . the seal broke" he had murmured, staring with two frightened kitten eyes at Dean, who had looked back at him terrified in turn.  
"You mean that. . . " said his brother, taking a look in his direction.  
"Lucifer will find him. Sam, you've got to run, you've got to hide right away!" Castiel told him, in no uncertain terms. "There's no time, that's all he was waiting for. Sam, you have to leave NOW, and you need to hide out in a place Lucifer can't know about. "  
"But. . . this is absurd! We're in Detroit, where the hell am I supposed to go? Without a plan, without weapons! Doesn't it. . . "  
"SAM" Dean had shoulted, with a face he'd rarely seen before. "Shut the fuck up and LEAVE. Cass is right, Lucifer can't wait to get his hands on his dress for the party. "If you don't want the apocalypse to start early, get your ass and take it somewhere safe RIGHT AWAY!!!"  
Sam had surrendered, letting Cas teleport him to the outskirts of the city.  
"Do you know how to make the seal I gave you?" the angel asked him before he left.  
Sam nodded.  
"Yes, Dean showed me. "  
"Good. Good luck, Sam. And whatever happens. . . " had done what could be called a Castiel-smirk ". . . don't say YES. "  
Sam laughed against his will.  
So, after hours of wandering and ill-famed encounters, he finally arrived in front of an old abandoned warehouse, which had seen better days.  
Like him, after all.  
Knowing that he didn't have much time left, Sam had found himself a spacious room where he could spend the whole day and had put himself to good work.  
In hindsight, he might have done better and lock himself up in a warehouse of snacks or Budweiser, given the thirst and hunger he now felt.  
In his haste, the only thing he had managed to bring were two bottles of water and a few snack bars from a vending machine.  
Good plan, Dean.  
He sighed sadly, looking for a comfortable position on the wooden floor.  
He should have brought a goddamn blanket with him, too.  
\------------------------  
The third day, it was Hell.  
Lucifer had crossed the threshold of the room in the form of Nick.  
Sam felt like his lungs were out of air: Nick's face had turned into something grotesque, consumed by the power of the former Archangel it contained.  
"Sammy, Sammy" the Devil had smiled, looking over his right shoulder. "You always have to complicate things, don't you?"  
Sam hadn't moved, shrinking as much as possible within the circle.  
The air in the room had become sticky and unbreathable, but he had not had the courage to take a step to try to open one of the thousand windows that surrounded him.  
"I know you're here. The seal that protects you now is not as strong as the one on your ribs were" the fallen angel had slyly smiled.  
Sam felt like he was dying.  
Oh, shit.  
Lucifer had sighed, dragging an old chair into the middle of the room, sitting on it.  
"You know, Sam, unlike you, I don't need to eat or sleep. I could stay here for twenty years and nothing about me would change. Well," he looked at his Vessel and vaguely raised a blond eyebrow. ". . . maybe Nick would have a little trouble, but in the end, he's not meant to contain me forever."  
"You're a real asshole." Sam hissed at him, almost laughing to himself thinking that Lucifer would probably have heard his comment coming from nowhere.  
"Oh, you're really here, then!" The Devil had joked, folding his arms with satisfaction.  
"You've known since walking into the fucking building." Sam replied, correctly guessing.  
He was screwed, but even if his cover was blown, it didn't mean anything.  
He wouldn't say yes.  
"Yes, in fact it's true." Satan admitted, looking at his nails.  
Sam had grunted in disgust.  
"How do you expect me to say yes when you treat your Vessels like dead meat?"  
"Oh, come on, Sam, don't . . . what do you humans say? Throw the baby out with the bath water. Fascinating way of saying..."  
Sam rolled his eyes.  
"You're not like Nick. Nick is not NOTHING. " Satan had told him in a tone so cold that had frozen him where he was.  
"Yes, he's just another of the creatures you hate so much and you want to see destroyed!"  
"I would lie if I told you no, and I never lie." Lucifer had giggled, shaking his shoulders almost with sadistic cheerfulness.  
"Yeah, right. The king of bullshit" had continued Sam in his mind, scrutinizing him grimly.  
"Why should I lie to you, Sammy? That would take you away from me. We're the same, you know. Our brothers abandoned us, our fathers lied to us and denied us. If we were to start stepping on each other's toes, it would be the end."  
"Among us outcasts, you mean? " He had mocked him, against his will.  
Lucifer had laughed at heart this time, making his skin crawl.  
"Yeah, yeah, we could say that! I like your irony, Sammy. It has something. . . black, twisted. . . very funny."  
Sam almost sawed off his tongue. To hear such a thing from the Devil was anything but flattering.  
"Say yes, Sammy. Let's get this over with, with all this death, this useless circus." Lucifer had asked him then, transfixing him with his blue irises.  
"NEVER." had denied Sam, more than ever firm in his purpose.  
Lucifer had continued to stare at him (or rather, to stare at the void where he was), without blinking.  
"You're a bad boy, Sammy." He whispered, gloomy.  
"Never as much as you." Sam had replied by pulling his knees to his chest and hiding his face against them, refusing to pay attention to him again.  
"How long do you think you can hold out like that? If you don't eat, if you don't drink, you'll die. Is that what you want? You know I'm gonna bring you back every single time." he had heard Lucifer whisper.  
"I know." He answered.  
"Don't be stupid..."  
"You know what? Go to hell!" Sam had exploded. "Is it my body you chose? Fine! For all I care, you can spend the Eternity locked in here rotting with me... stay with my corpse and bring it back as many times as you want. If nothing else, the Earth will be saved, and the humans you hate so much, too." He had been snarled at him in the face, smiling pitilessly.  
If Lucifer thought he was scared, he was wrong. He hadn't seen anything but shit all his life.  
The former Archangel had remained silent for a few moments, staring at the empty spot where he was, then he had jumped up from the battered chair and thrown it a few inches from his face, sending ir to crash on the wall behind him.  
Lucifer had looked at him with an expression that would petrify any saint in Paradise.  
"Don't challenge me, Samuel Winchester! You're just a small, insignificant human being." He warned him, giving him his back.  
Sam had a glimpse of a shift of air in the area of the devil's back, where his invisible wings were to be found.  
When Lucifer had vanished through the door, Sam had returned to bundle in his circle, feeling more than ever tiny and helpless.  
\-----------------------------------  
Thar night, despite the fierce thirst, had passed without further unwanted visits, as well as much of the next morning.  
Sam was almost thinking of trying to get out of the circle a few steps away from the window to try take a guarded look outside, when steps on the ground floor had immediately brought him back with his feet to the center of the protective symbol.  
He had been for several minutes with his ears outstretched, motionless, while the steps had gradually grown closer, first on the broken stairs, then on the shaky landing, up to his door, inexorable.  
When Dean had crossed the threshold, he almost shouted with joy.  
"DEAN!" He had called him, doing his best to meet him, but he had stopped almost immediately.  
What if it was a trick?  
The man on the door had meanwhile smiled, entering the room in large steps.  
"Oh, Sammy, you can't imagine!" He whispered, lowering his green eyes to the ground.  
"What happened?" Sam had asked, his head spinning through the spoiled air of the room and the lack of food and water.  
"Something terrible has happened. . . by the way, what kind of smell is in here? I'm sorry. . . " Dean interrupted himself, running his fingers over his eyelids. "I haven't slept in three nights. When you ran to hide. . . they took Castiel." He had murmured, shifting his gaze to the left, his pupils glistened with tiredness and worry.  
"WHAT?" Sam almost screamed, despite his physical state. "WHY?"  
"To know where you are, obviously" had replied Dean, looking up at the ceiling. "Sam. I've managed to get by so far, but it hasn't been easy. Castiel. . . he took a big risk for us. And now they've got him, maybe they've killed him, and then Bobby. . ."  
"BOBBY? What about Bobby? " Sam was completely scared at that point.  
". . . hasn't been on the radar for hours now. I guess. . . I'm afraid that. . . they have already got to him, too."  
Dean had sniffed a little.  
"Sam, we can't go on like this. We lost the only two people who were trying to protect us and you. . . you are locked in this bunker, without food or water. . . and I. . . Shit, I'm doomed. You know how many fucking demons those bastards put at the city gates? We're FUCKED Sam. . . this time it's really the end."  
"Dean...!" Sam almost hiccuped, shaking his head. He had never seen his brother in that state, except on a few, very serious occasions.  
And Bobby. . . shit, Bobby. . .  
"What can we do?" He asked, in search of an answer.  
"That's the problem, Sam." Dean closed his eyes as a sign of surrender. "This time we can't do anything at all."  
"DAMMIT! Fuck!" Sam had exploded. He was crying now, luckily his brother couldn't see him. "There's got to be something, Dean! Maybe if I used my powers again, we could. . ."  
"Sam, no! Don't even say that!" Dean had shouted back.  
"And then what?" Sam pulled on his hair, exasperated.  
Dean gave him his back, looking at his feet.  
"Only one thing, I'm afraid." He had whispered so lowly that it was almost imperceptible.  
"What are you talking about?" Sam hadshaken his head , incredulous.  
"Sam. It's not just about us. Or the world. This is about people we LOVE. And even if. . . even if we fled to Holland, or if. . . if we tried to commit suicide, nothing would change. We're fighting ETERNAL people, Sam. Not demons. We're fighting fucking PARADISE. And we're not. . . "  
"We're nothing." Sam finished the sentence for him. Just like Lucifer said. They were human beings  
That was so true.  
"Dean..."  
"Sam, I believe that. . . please don't hate me."  
"What do you mean?" Sam's forehead had wrinkled.  
Dean had looked a few inches from above his invisible shoulder. "I think I'll say yes to Michael." He had finally announced, collapsing his shoulders, won.  
"DEAN, NO!" Sam had denied. "If you do, all that's left of you will be. . ."  
"A battered Vessel? I know, Sammy. But at this point, I don't care anymore. Call me a coward, hate me, but. . . we're talking BOBBY, Sam. And people of the fucking world. Saying yes could save us all."  
Sam had just swung his hands across his forehead, uncertain.  
He too had always thought so, even if he had never had the courage to say it, only to himself, aloud.  
Fuck.  
Dean had almost made to leave, when Sam's voice, much closer to him than before, had stopped him.  
"You came out of the circle?" He asked him, turning around to look at his face.  
"Yes, I'm right here." Sam had nodded, with a sad smile of defeat. "We're so screwed."  
Dean had shaken his head affirmatively in turn, hugging him to comfort him, as he rarely did.  
They must have been in a really bad situation.  
"You know what that means, don't you, Sam?" Dean murmured, feeling the tears coming back to his eyes.  
"Yes. Yes, I know." Sam had confirmed, slightly detaching himself from him. "I will say yes to Lucifer." He had exhaled, trembling like a leaf.  
Maybe dying would have scared him less.  
"Yes?" Had repeated Dean, the green irises that flickered like candle flames in the light of dusk.  
Sam had taken a big breath. "Yes" he had finally exhaled, returning to hug his brother, terrified.  
"Don't be afraid, Sammy. It's going to be all right." Dean held him back, smiling a little. "It's going to be wonderful..." He had continued, while his tone of voice changed completely, as did his stature and entire bone structure.  
Sam had froze in his embrace, but Lucifer hadn't let him go at all.  
"Thank you Sammy, you really made me VERY happy." He had sneered truce, moving Sam's fringe from his face into a horrible parody of fraternal gesture.  
Sam had felt himself sunk, while the Devil had drawn a new Enochian circle with the fire all around them.  
"Don't worry, you won't feel a thing. Dean, on the other hand. . . eh, I'm afraid he's going to suffer a lot, unfortunately" he had smiled softly, while his brother's screams of agony suddenly came from downstairs. "It was a real surprise to discover that he was the Vessel of my dear brother Michael . . . even if at this point it no longer has much importance, do not you think? Smile, Sammy, Dean will be our first sacrifice! Sleep now." He had imposed, with a slight tap on his nose.  
Sam had tried with all his might to oppose the power of the former Archangel, for Dean, for the whole of humanity, but by then it was too late.  
Darkness had fallen inexorably on his eyes.


End file.
